HE LAY IN A COT IN THE palace's private infirmary, a peaceful expression on his face. But Perseus' one working eye fluttered open when the door slammed shut. He let out an exasperated sigh and pulled himself up in a sitting position.

Apollo continued to walk inside, his feet barely touching the ground. Finally, he came to a stop in between the two cots, glancing sadly at a still-unconscious Aeneas before turning his focus back on Perseus.

"You alright?" Apollo placed a hand on the edge of his cot.

"I'll live," He grunted. The god of the sun motioned to his face, half of which had been bandaged thickly until just the night before. He was shirtless, his chest, arms and abdomen equally covered in white. It had been a few days since Achilles had fallen, and he had been confined to this bed ever since. "Come to check on my brother?"

"I came to check on you, actually," Apollo told him, golden eyes glinting. "Aeneas will live. He's very lucky I got to him in time but he's out of critical condition, don't worry."

"His hand...it's damaged permanently," Perseus murmured, turning to look at his unconscious brother. "But you're right. He's alive, and that's all that matters. We both are. Thank you, I guess?"

"No problem. But you..." Apollo hesitated. "How do you feel?" He brushed his golden hair out of his eyes.

"Apollo," Perseus fixed him with a tired look. "I'm permanently blind in one eye, bruised and leaking gold through my bandages. How do you think I feel?"

The Olympian chuckled lightly. "Right. I'm sorry I couldn't fix your eye."

Perseus swallowed. He had lost all feeling at that side of his face since the battle. But, it was worth it. "A small price to pay for finally bringing Achilles down." His fingers moved to touch the skin on his face. "Besides, I think a scar would suit me quite well, don't you?" Apollo pursed his lips at Perseus' deflection. But the son of the sea god snuggled down into the bed. The past few days had been a whirlwind. He and his brother had missed whatever battles had been fought, but Deiphobus—who had taken command of the army—had been to see him each day, and from the looks of things, the Achaeans were so disoriented by the loss of their greatest warrior that they were falling, steadily.

After Apollo had descended from the ramparts, Perseus remembered him flashing them into the infirmary, then working his magic. He'd been able to heal Aeneas of his wounds, but it was only after he was certain his brother was going to live that Perseus had also allowed himself to be treated (read: Apollo had to knock him out).

Aeneas hadn't even blinked since, and it was only by the steady rising and falling of his chest that Perseus knew he was still alive. Their father had come to see them right after Perseus had risen, weeping and sobbing about how proud of them he was. It had taken all of his willpower to stay strong for Anchises because the gods knew the old man would break down if even Perseus showed him how wrecked he was by everything. He couldn't do that to his father.

His green eye moved past Apollo and into the large cot opposite him. Next to Aeneas slept his son Ascanius, curled into his dad's side. The child held him like he was afraid if he let go Aeneas would vanish with the wind. His fingers rested on the bandaged stump where a hand used to be. Neither stirred as Apollo moved to lean on the wall. Creusa was also passed out in a chair beside Aeneas' cot, her face screwed up with pain, tormented even in her dreams. She looked wretched, still in her nightdress, and Perseus knew she hadn't left since they had been brought in. He knew what she was going through. The fear she was feeling...he owed Apollo now because he was very sure he'd have lost his brother too if not for him.

His hand moved to his abdomen, which was stained with dried ichor. Moving hurt, and although Apollo had closed all open wounds and taken away most of the internal damages, the pain still felt fresh, and along with the left side of his face, he would be adorned with several new scars all over his body. But he did not mind. He would wear them with honour. His scars were symbols of everything he had been through to get to where he was.

He has a single one now, running from his forehead, through his eyebrow and down to his cheek. As for his eye, it was as milky white as cataracts and when he had worked up the nerve to look at his reflection, even he had been a bit pertubed. But it would be alright. He was fine, really. Just a bit battered.

Along with the sun god's tricks, Perseus vaguely remembered Apollo flying him over to the shore when he was barely conscious, and leaving him submerged for hours.

Now, all that was left was waiting for his body to bounce back to normal. He was immortal, and so it was happening quite quickly, and he'd be back on the battlefield in no time.

Andromache and her son had come with Hecuba on the second day of his confinement.

Perseus' heart ached for the widow. She was as much his friend as Creusa or Cassandra was, and he hated what the Greeks had put her through by murdering her husband. She hadn't been able to say much. But he had held her hand, and they had stayed in silence for a while. And that was enough. His brother Hector's killer was dead and perhaps now Andromache could sleep easy. But Perseus knew that each morning when she rose to the shining sun and saw the empty bed beside her, a cloud would block out all the light in her life. Andromache would never be the same. But she had their son, Astyanax. Maybe his nephew would be able to get her to smile again. Someday.

"How's Memnon doing?" Perseus glanced back at Apollo, trying to pull himself out of the well of gloomy thoughts.

"Holding the fort while you're away," Apollo folded his arms. "Having another immortal warrior on our side is a great morale boost."

"Thank the gods Zeus owed Eos that favour, then," The demigod grunted. He didn't know how to react to having another immortal running around his city. But Memnon was an excellent fighter, and Apollo was right. His powers might not have been spectacular, but an extra immortal demigod leading Troy and her allies? It was unconventional, but he wasn't complaining. It was a wonder the Achaeans were still lurking around.

"Oh, a lot of them weren't too happy," Apollo grinned wryly. "Athena, most of all. But like you, Memnon is not a god, a Titan or a giant. Like you, his immortality was gained in through cutting corners—" Perseus snorted at that, "—And so the ancient laws do not apply. An exquisite loophole and an amazing turn of events for all of us." When the god explained what had happened to Selene's nephew, Perseus was taken aback. But since then, he had come to see how much Zeus had knowingly or unknowingly helped them, to the chagrin of his fellow gods.

"Right," Perseus met the god's eyes. "Now, are you ready to finally get on with why you're actually here, Apollo?"

The deity arched a brow. "Sometimes it scares me how well you know me."

"Friends close, enemies closer and all that."

"Haha, You're a riot," Apollo rolled his eyes. He was silent for a bit, before piping, "I saw things a while ago. Just a few days into the future. Into one of the possible futures. And I came to warn you."

"I swear if you tell me Achilles will magically be resurrected—"

"Gods, nothing of the sort," He shuddered. "It has something to do with your brother."

Perseus sat straighter, eyes narrowing. "Apollo...I thought you said he's fine." His voice was tinged with warning.

"For now."

His breath seemed to lodge in his throat. After everything, after Hector, he didn't know what he would even do with himself if Aeneas was killed.

"Elaborate," Perseus growled.

Apollo's gold eyes burned into him, but his hackles were still raised, teeth gritted. The son of Leto rolled his eyes. "If I hadn't been on the battlefield, Aeneas would have died. I was but a variable in the entire tapestry the Fates wove, and I fear another variable has come into play. Another pawn, ignored for far too long, has crept near the edge of the board...too close to the king. Too close to you."

He wanted to squeeze Apollo's throat. "Could you try not to speak in riddles for once? Gods." But he knew what Apollo was saying, whether he wanted to admit it or not. This was his story...whatever happened from now, it all lay on his shoulders. The Fates were playing a dangerous game.

"I speak of Ajax the Greater, of Telamon. Should he continue to live, he will murder Aeneas in his next battle."

"We can't let that happen," Perseus' fingers clenched into fists as he slowly soaked in the new information. "I'll kill him first." They both knew how important his brother was. To Troy. To them all.

"We will," Apollo agreed. "Aeneas isn't going anywhere, for now, so we have time. But I thought I'd give you a bit of a heads-up first. I have a plan, actually." As rocky as their relationship was, Perseus knew that Apollo had helped them as much as he had hurt them, and these days he seemed more inclined to do the former. To accomplish anything, he had to trust Apollo. The god continued to speak, laying out his plan before Perseus. It was brilliant, actually, but a little harsh. He didn't care though. Ajax would harm his brother, and he couldn't allow such a thing to happen.

After a few minutes of terse planning, Perseus nodded in appreciation. "I'll come to you when I'm fully healed, I guess. Then we'll get to work."

"Alright," Apollo said. "Rest well."

"Not until my brother is safe."

"Fair enough," The god peeled himself off the wall. A vacant look appeared in his eyes before he shook his head and said, "I followed up with Hermes and my uncle in the Underworld. I thought you might want to know. Hector got Elysium, of course. No rebirth for him; he's alright with waiting, I guess. Thetis' son got the same at first. But the Fates put in a word with Hades, and he's been sentenced to guarding the Banks of the River Styx to prevent anyone from willingly going in...from repeating the Curse of Achilles."

"Is that what they're calling it now?" He asked wryly.

"Yeah, crazy, I know," Apollo laughed lightly. "But...Achilles' heel was his only weakness. It was a weight his mother forced upon him, and as much as his invulnerability protected him, it was his undoing. And his punishment...his eternity, or whatever, is atoning for his mother's sin and stopping other heroes from repeating the same mistakes."

"They used him as an example," Perseus summarised. He pursed his lips. Achilles had been his arch-enemy. But he didn't deserve to be punished for Thetis' actions. Not for eternity. It wasn't fair. But, as dark as it would seem, Perseus was glad that he wasn't in Elysium with Hector.

"Fate can be cruel," Apollo shrugged. "Achilles' punishment will stop his story from ever happening again."

"Oh well," Perseus shrugged in his cot. He had lost enough sleep over the Prince of Phthia when he'd been alive. No more.

"I'll be leaving now," The god patted his shoulder. "You have other visitors, it seems."

As Apollo vanished into the morning mist, a familiar ethereal scent filled the room. Aeneas and his family were still out cold. Ascanius was snoring slightly. Selene reappeared in the position Apollo had been just a few moments before. "I hope I didn't chase off anyone important."

"Definitely not," He leaned up and she smiled, following and connecting their lips in a welcome kiss. Selene pulled back, then her hands were on his face. "How're you feeling, Perseus?"

"You know, I'm getting tired of that question," He sighed, leaning into her touch. "But since it's you, I'll excuse it. I'm doing okay."

She laughed, her hand travelling up to his hair. Selene adored his hair. It was one of the things she seemed to love about him. "I just mean, are you healed enough to walk yet?"

"Maybe if I tried, yeah," He pressed back into the pillows. "I didn't expect to see you until nightfall."

"I'm not nocturnal, silly," She rolled her eyes playfully.

"Only the former moon goddess," He deadpanned.

She snorted.

Selene came every night and left before Apollo's rays hit the earth. She would snuggle next to him in the infirmary bed, wrapping him in her arms, and for those few hours, the pain was almost non-existent. Her eyes focused on his. Perseus knew she was worried about how he'd handle the loss of half of his sight. He had tried to be reassuring, but deep down, he knew it would take some getting used to. His head felt heavy where the bandage used to be, and trying to see with his one working eye was straining. He hated it. But he would have to adjust.

"I know what you're thinking," He took her hands. "I'll be fine, Sel."

"I trust you will," Selene murmured, squeezing hard. His brow furrowed. The son of the sea had already promised himself that he would not allow the blindness to become a liability to his army. They needed him at his best, and that's where he was going to be. For Selene. For his brother.

"Besides," The Titaness stood straighter, eyes filled with a teasing light. "I think that scar makes you look quite sexy."

"Oh?"

"Please, don't make me barf." The voice took out any reply from his mouth as Perseus turned to the doorway. The temperature in the room seemed to rise. Ascanius shuffled in his bed but did not wake. Perseus heard Selene gasp lightly in surprise as another immortal stepped into the room, seemingly from thin air.

He had curly dark brown hair the colour of chestnuts, and a well-trimmed beard, with elfish-looking ears and a pointed, familiar nose. He was easily taller than Perseus, and perhaps fitter, with well-defined muscles and two broadswords slung over his back. He was tan, and wore gold and brown armour over a simple chiton, intricate, as though designed by Hephaestus himself. The breastplate was etched with depictions of wars, day and night, the sun, and a chariot arching over the sky. There were several more Perseus couldn't make out. Gauntlets braced his forearms, and a white cloak was strapped to his shoulders. He was complete with grieves, and brown sandals.

But all that wasn't what had shocked Perseus into silence.

There were flames, real, actual living little fires, dancing across his skin, his armour, even his hair. But he didn't seem to notice them. His eyes glowed orange with the colour of a campfire. He reminded Perseus of Apollo, if Apollo was thrown into a bonfire, grew up a few aeons and then was doused in brown paint.

"Brother," Selene looked surprised. "I did not expect you until tomorrow."

The former Titan of the Sun ignored his sister. His eyes slid over to Perseus, prone and weak in his bed. He tried not to squirm at the burning gaze. "Helios. Hello."

Selene's older brother had a frown on his face. He gave Perseus a once over, and grunted, "Sick scar."

"Thanks, just got it a few days ago."

And then he was approaching till he stood at the other side of the bed. The immortal leaned down. "Helios..." Selene's voice had a hint of warning. Perseus flexed his jaw and met the Titan's eyes. He knew the first impression counted, and although he hadn't intended to meet his lover's brother while beaten down and recovering, there was nothing to do now apart from attempt not to get burnt to ashes.

"Relax, Sister," He glanced at Selene. "I've only come to deem if this demigod is worthy of your affections." He said the word like it was the worst insult he could think of, and Perseus had to physically try hard not to let his offence show on his face.

"I don't need you to deem anything, Helios."

He ignored her again, eyes narrowing as he took in the son of Poseidon. Perseus' throat bobbed. He held back a wince as Helios' eyes burned brighter. And then, finally, a maniacal grin stretched across the other man's face. "I will not pretend to understand my sister's choice in men or why she insists on tying herself to just one." He arched a brow at Selene, who folded her arms indignantly, then continued, "But if she chose you, then you must be a special one. I look forward to finding out what makes that so and getting to know the one who has stolen dear Selene's heart." Perseus made to nod, but then Helios' voice invaded his mind, sharp, hard and brutal. "Hurt her, and I will break every single bone in your body and throw you into the pit of Chaos." As quickly as it had appeared, his presence sank away.

"I'll take your word for it," He nodded sombrely.

Selene rolled her eyes as Helios stood straight, "I have to admit, even I was intrigued by your most recent battle. Most of the celestial couldn't take their eyes off you three. You are gifted warriors, you and your brother and it's been a while since I went against a formidable opponent. Especially a former mortal." The invitation was clear.

"It would be an honour to cross swords with you, Helios," He nodded. "I hope we can grow to be great friends."

The Titan snorted. "Don't bet on it."

Selene lay a hand on her brother's shoulder and shot Perseus an apologetic look. She turned back to the flaming deity. "If you're quite done, I think you should leave. Give Perseus a bit of time to recover."

"You just want me gone so you can go on trying to eat each other's faces off," Her brother teased, and for a moment, he wasn't the intimidating flaming warrior anymore. Just an over-protective, smiling older sibling and Perseus sighed to himself. He'd had his fair share of that with Hector. Gods, he missed him. Helios pulled Selene in for a quick hug, and then he was gone as suddenly as he appeared, taking away the overbearing temperature with him.

"Sorry about him," Selene walked back to his side. "He can be a bit extra sometimes."

"I like him," Perseus shrugged.

"Give it a few days," The Titaness snorted. "You'll be singing a different tune."

He chuckled, and Selene bent to kiss him again. "I have to go. Business to attend to."

"Alright," He nodded. "See you tonight?"

"Always."

As Selene vanished into the mist, Perseus' eyes moved to a bloodied blade which was leaning on the side of his bed. A sword which had brought him so much sorrow. He had one last thing to do.

BREAK

"HECTOR." His voice was low and sad, barely a whisper and his emotions mirrored in the serenity of the ocean spreading before him. It was nightfall, and Selene placed a peck on his cheek before vanishing into the evening mist. She had brought him here, and she understood that this was something he needed to do alone.

He was calm; satisfied. The rage and agony he had been carrying with him since that fateful day weeks ago when he had lost a part of himself to Achilles, had all but dissipated.

Achilles was dead, and now Hector was avenged. He could rest, and maybe soon, so could Perseus. He'd fulfilled his oath.

"Brother," he murmured. "We did it." He was still too weak to stand, and so Selene had deposited him in the sand, his knees brought up to his chest. The waves lapped at his feet, and a warm and cosy feeling was creeping through him at the sensation. It almost felt like Hector was right there beside him.

Great gods, he missed him.

He missed Hector so badly, and it hurt, waking up every single day since and learning, once again, that his best friend would no longer laugh, fight or love alongside him. Not in this world, at least. It pained him even more because he was immortal, and it meant he would never see Hector again